


Silent Touches

by Scullysfan



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, MSR, Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4546374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scullysfan/pseuds/Scullysfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bubbles and blessed silence create a much-needed utopia for Mulder and Scully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Touches

The police station was a cacophany of noise. Trapped there for the better part of three hours while he and his partner made statements, filled out reports, and signed, initialed and dated what had to be every damn piece of paper in the building, Mulder had heard far more than he'd ever wanted. 

A jumble of voices in a variety of languages made the West Precinct sound like a modern-day Tower of Babel. Ringing phones, the scrape of creaking wooden chairs against a peeling cement floor, the muted tapping of computer keys. Somewhere behind closed doors, cells clanged shut and the nauseating sound of retching threatened to disturb the digestion of his hastily consumed lunch. 

Scully's clicking heels were lost in the racket as she approached, but Mulder recognized the gentle touch of her hand on his back. Turning, he found himself staring into her weary face, her shoulders sagging and her hair no longer as smooth and carefully arranged as it had been at the start of the day.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a red-faced, portly sergeant barking orders as he passed by cut her short. Bowing her head, she shook it ruefully as Mulder chuckled softly. When she again met his gaze, he spoke, though not with his voice -- instead trusting her Mulder-reading skills. Inclining his head toward the door and with a tired waggle of his eyebrows, he reached out to usher her along with him as they left the clamorous racket behind.

\--

 

Still hungry for the silence absent from their day, not a word passed between them on the drive to Scully's apartment. They were insulated from the bustle of the busy streets, enclosed in the heavy quietness of the car's soft gray leather. 

The radio remained silent in unstated mutual consent. He much preferred the melody of her respiration as she sat next to him, her head resting against the back of the seat, eyes closed against the late afternoon sun glaring in her face. Unwilling to interrupt her calm respite with unexpected words, Mulder slowly took his right hand from the steering wheel and reaching over, lightly skimmed the pads of his fingers over the satiny smoothness of her hand nearest him. 

A soft smile played on her lips, and she rolled her head to face him, her eyes remaining shut as the hand he caressed so gently turned over to accept the warm clasp of his. Joined by flesh and bone, they continued home in the tranquility of their own making. 

 

\--

 

He'd barely shut her door behind him, the metallic thud of the deadbolt lock sliding home loudly in the hushed apartment, when she kicked her shoes in the direction of the couch. Unbuttoning and shrugging off her jacket, she disappeared back into the inner sanctum of her apartment. 

They'd experienced enough days like this one for Mulder to know exactly where she was going -- it had become a ritual for them, albeit a sporadically practiced one. 

Early in their partnership, Scully's love of bubble baths had been filed away in the section of his mind devoted solely to her. Of course, Mulder thought wryly as he headed into the kitchen, it was also in the X-Files thanks to her encounter with Eugene Victor Tooms. 

Shaking his head to dislodge memories he had no intention of dwelling on tonight, he gulped orange juice from the carton she kept just for him, choosing instead to recall the early days of their more =personal= partnership. 

Careful observation had led him to deduce the rationale behind her copious use of bubble builders. The more bubbles in the tub, the more relaxed she was, until her body was immersed up to her jaw, the curves and planes worshiped by his hands hidden from his searching eyes. He had begun to worry he would lose her underneath all those softly popping creations of soap and water, so to allay his fears, he had taken to joining her. Feeling somewhat silly at first, the soothing hot water and Scully's soap-slickened body pressed against his had quickly convinced him of a bubble bath's merits. 

Now, he realized as he made his way down the hallway, tugging his tie off and toeing one foot after the other from shoes too expensive to be so smelly…now he appreciated the occasions she invited him into her sanctuary of porcelain and chrome, steam and suds. Whether their bathing was the electric prelude to the joining of his flesh to hers or the healing therapy their tired, aching bodies begged for, it was a time spent in relative silence. Only the lap of water against the sides of the tub and contented exhalations spoke to them. 

Tonight he would speak to her and she to him with the timeless language of touch. 

 

\--

 

She had been busy while he was draining her orange juice supply. 

Flickering candles releasing the scent of lilacs lined the windowsill and the shelf above her tub. Water spilled from the faucet and disappeared underneath a thick layer of foam, the bubbles casting a purplish hue. She was using the freesia bubble bath, he realized. Aromas meant to relax them, soothe and gentle their tired bodies. 

If his olfactory senses had just been stroked to a heightened awareness, the picture Scully presented would make him forever grateful for his vision.

Beautiful no matter the lighting, her naked body glowed in the darkened room -- light and shadows dueling for prominance as the flames danced over her creamy, freckle-dusted skin. She stood at the sink, gathering and pinning her hair into a haphazard explosion of red atop her head. The movements arched her back, her breasts thrust forward. 

His gaze swept silently over her, lingering here and there on shadowed curves and then settling on her reflection smiling at him from the mirror. 

Shoving one last bobby pin into the perilously piled mass of hair, she turned and crossed the room. She looked over her shoulder at him, lifting her eyebrows even as her eyes raked over his half-dressed form. As clearly as if she had spoken the words, Scully called for him to come join her. 

Her mute beckoning spurred him to action, and he moved quickly, stripping off the rest of his clothes as she stepped into the tub. Sinking into the water, a breathy sigh escaped as her eyelids fluttered shut. She leaned back, sliding further down and allowing her legs to float from the bottom of the tub until her toes peeked through the bubbles. 

Watching her -- always watching her -- he bent down to turn off the running water and stopped to run a finger lightly over the bottom of one foot. He grinned when she jerked away from his touch, causing water to splash onto the tiled floor. She might have been sharing her body with him for months, but he'd discovered that the deal didn't include her feet. 

She sat up, looking at him with a mock glare, and scooted forward. One small hand broke through the bubbles, and she crooked her finger at him in silent invitation. 

Anxious to feel his knotted muscles unravel beneath the heated water, he climbed carefully into the bathtub. His long legs settled themselves on either side of hers as he manuevered between the hard surface of the tub and her soft, pliable body. 

At last cocooned in a bed of liquidy bubbles, he pulled her back until she rested almost bonelessly against his chest. Sliding his hands down her arms until their searching fingers found each other, he crossed their arms across her belly, enfolding her in his strong embrace. Her head tipped back and nestled in the curve where shoulder met neck, turned so his chin rested against her forehead.

Minutes ticked by uncounted as they allowed this watery utopia to lull them into a blissful doze. Not a sound shattered the peace surrounding them in this realm where only they existed. The realm of touch -- the place where skin meeting skin, not lightly uttered words, is assurance of tangibility.

All too soon, cooling water and dissipating suds forced their limbs into movement as each took a thick washcloth from the stack on the shelf and began to wash away the grime of a long day. 

Finishing before she did, Mulder lathered the cloth again and moving in languid circles, washed her back. A soft groan came from her as her head fell forward, her chin resting on her chest. His gentle laving flowed seamlessly into hushed praise of her body. 

Goosebumps had begun popping up on her rapidly cooling skin before he realized she'd fallen asleep under his touch. Holding onto her tightly with one arm, he stretched the other forward until he could pluck the stopper from the drain. 

The gurgling water was intrusion enough to stir her awake, and with a sleepy glance over her shoulder, she rose, water streaming down her body. Holding onto his proffered hand, she stepped gingerly over the side of the tub and onto the woven bath mat. He followed her as she grabbed them each a plush white towel. Had they possessed more energy, they might have dried each other, lavishing attention on those areas most responsive, but a bone-deep weariness left them merely skimming the soft fabric over their skin. 

Scully took the towels and dropped them on top of the clothesbasket as she left the room, with him remaining behind long enough to extinguish the burning candles. 

Padding into the darkened room, he found her already huddled on her side under the heavy bedcovers. He slipped in beside her quickly, trying to keep the cooler air from stealing the warmth her small body was giving off. Hearing her deep, even breathing, he rolled over to set the alarm, cursing the loud beeps as each button calling for a 6:00 a.m. wake-up was pushed. 

With the end of their peaceful silence arranged, Mulder burrowed back under the covers. Curling himself around her frame until they were pressed together from their heads to her toes, he joined her in a sleep-filled tranquility. 

A tranquility where the only thing they heard was the music of touch. 

 

END


End file.
